


Dogs of War

by indecisive_penguin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree exists solely to give Gabe an aneurism, Child Soldiers, F/F, F/M, Found Family, Gabriel Reyes Did Not Ask For This, Gabriel Reyes gets ANOTHER kid, Gen, Hanzo Shimada Did Not Ask For This, Human Experimentation, Hyper Intelligence, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other, Post-Recall, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre and Post Fall of Overwatch, Recovery, Trauma, Uncanny Valley, and Hanzo Shimada gets a LOT more than he ever bargained for, bed sharing, being a big brother is kinda like therapy for genji, data-rich/experience-poor, in which Jesse McCree and Genji Shimada get a younger sibling, non-blood related sibling relationships, sibling relationships, test tube babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:52:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecisive_penguin/pseuds/indecisive_penguin
Summary: Each of us comes into the world violently, painfully, a scream our first serenade to life.Some of us are born with teeth and claws, ready made for war, while others are gifted with sharp minds and sympathy, thriving only in times of peace. But no matter the circumstances of our birth, each of us must carve out our own place in this world.For some, the journey is longer than others.Or:Sometimes a family is a sassy cowboy, a perpetually exhausted super soldier, a cyborg ninja, and an experimental weapon of mass destruction, and that's okay.





	1. Coyote Howl

\- 2061, the Chihuahuan Desert, New Mexico -

Something has been following them for the past three days.

It’s too big to be a coyote and, according to Jesse, those are the largest predators they’re going to find out in the middle of nowhere.

Gabe had been the first one to notice, eyes tracking something moving through the brush in the distance. It was too far away to identify at the time and had disappeared before he could get out a scope to get a closer look. They had kept a wary eye out, but whatever or whoever it is hasn’t gotten any closer.

Until tonight.

They’re camped out at the base of a towering rock formation, fire crackling as they talk quietly back and forth across it.

The softest shuffle and rasp of cloth against skin from above them draws Gabe’s attention immediately. Jesse notices it too, tensing slightly, but they both ignore it, carrying on as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening.

Night falls and still whoever it is hasn’t budged, so they formulate a quick plan by way of coded language. They make like they’re settling in, Jesse with his legs stretched out along the length of his bedroll, his hat shoved down over his face, and Reyes leaning against the rock wall, eyes closed but hyper aware of everything around him.

Hours tick by, the fire burning to low embers, and still nothing happens.

Then, slowly, from out of the shadows, creeps a figure.

There’s a lot of very long, dirty brown hair that trails on the ground as the person slinks into the clearing, dragging through the dirt. They appear to be wearing a medical gown, also covered in dirt and grime. Bare, dirty feet are visible when Gabe peaks an eye open, watching as the figure tiptoes over to his pack and, crouching over it, flips opens the top.

He’s expecting whoever it is to go for his data-pad or his stash of weapons, but when the person comes up with his backup jerky he hesitates in reaching for his pistol. They sniff at it before tearing into it like they’re starving, scarfing down a generous portion before going back for more.

Soundlessly, he unfolds from his seated position, coming up slowly behind the figure.

On closer inspection he realizes that it’s just a fucking kid.

They’re so much skinnier up close, too, with frighteningly thin wrists that look about as fragile as twigs. The skin might be pale under all the reddish dirt, but he can’t say for certain. Carefully, he reaches out to touch the kid’s shoulder.

And everything goes to hell.

Wide, bright green eyes snap up, a heart shaped face with a cupid’s bow mouth and a small, button nose visible for a second before the girl (holy shit it’s just a little girl) throws out her hands as if to ward him off, catching him in the chest while she does so. He braces himself, expecting a light push at the most.

What he isn’t expecting is to be thrown back several feet, the air knocked out of him from the blow and subsequent landing.

When he lifts his head, unhurt but winded, it’s to see the girl scrambling back towards the rocks and McCree reaching for his sidearm.

He understands why Jesse does it (an unidentified assailant just attacked his commanding officer, after all) but watching the bullet from Peacekeeper tear through the girl’s skull still makes his gut twist. She hits the dirt with a dull thud and lays there, unmoving.

There’s a long moment of total silence before they both sigh out a heavy breath, the adrenaline still cold and sharp. Gabe heaves himself up and McCree’s face twists into something like remorse as he holsters his weapon.

And then the girl groans.

Gabe knows for a fact that Jesse didn’t miss, that the bullet went through brain matter and out through the left eye socket, but seeing thin shoulders twist under the hospital gown galvanizes him to move. He and McCree each take an arm, lifting as the girl tries to crawl away and she lets out a miserable, high pitched whine, going limp and curling up into a tight ball.

Like she’s trying to make herself seem smaller.

They get her turned around and Gabe crouches down, getting a good look at her face.

Like he thought, Jesse’s shot came out the left eye, tearing through soft tissue and bone alike, but something about the wound isn’t right.

It’s bleeding, for sure, but it’s sluggish, and the flesh seems to be…moving.

He has to tamp down on the urge to vomit when he sees that, yes, the flesh is indeed shifting, pulling together as the wound actively heals before their eyes.

He and McCree watch in horrified fascination as the destroyed eyeball reforms, the sclera quickly filling with vitreous, the pupil and iris forming shortly after. Raw flesh closes around the organ as the cornea forms, leaving the eye shiny and wet. The eyelid is the last bit to heal over, leaving the girl to blink owlishly at them as she huddles against the rock wall, trapped between a literal rock and a proverbial hard place.

“Jesse,” Gabe keeps his voice low but the girl still visibly flinches. The jingle of spurs tells him McCree has stepped closer and he motions backwards with one hand for his pack, not taking his eyes off the girl. Jesse seems to have gotten the idea because the bag of jerky is pressed into his palm, from which he pulls a piece and extends it to the cowering girl.

There’s still blood on her face, despite her wound having vanished like it never existed. She tilts her head slightly, eyes flicking from his face to the food he’s offering. She doesn’t move for several long minutes, frozen in place, before tentatively reaching out a grubby hand.

She snatches the jerky from his open palm and retreats to her rock, scarfing down the meat as fast as possible.

“How long you been out here, kid?” Gabe asks quietly, not really expecting an answer.

“26 days.” Her voice shocks him, a rough, lilting rasp that makes him think she doesn’t often get a chance to speak. He frowns, extending another piece of jerky. This time, she is quick to snatch it and slower to move away, eyeing the bag he still holds in his other hand.

“Where did you come from?” He asks, eyes flicking over the ragged hospital gown she’s wearing. She tilts her head, frowning, before turning slightly and pointing vaguely East.

“That way.” She doesn’t elaborate further. He blinks, but offers her another piece of dried meat as reward for the information. She scarfs it down like the rest, but doesn’t move away this time.

“Where are you going?” He asks. She shrugs.

“Nowhere. I have nothing.” She says, holding out her hands, palm up, as if to better illustrate her point. His brow furrows.

A strange girl with superhuman strength and hyper-regeneration wandering alone through the desserts of New Mexico doesn’t exactly sound like "nothing" to him.

He offers her the bag of jerky, which she takes, wolfing down the rest of it’s contents as she settles closer to him.

“You okay with coming with us, then?” He asks her, thinking that, at the very least, they can find a home for her. Somewhere safer than out here, surrounded by nothing but red dirt and cacti. She tilts her head, that inquisitive motion that he’s beginning to think is a quirk of hers.

“Will there be more?” She asks, gesturing with the empty jerky bag. Gabe can’t help but bark a surprised laugh.

“Sure, kid.” He says. Her eyes wander to McCree, who is fidgeting by the dying fire.

“And you will not shoot me again?” She asks, tentative.

“I’m real sorry ‘bout that, darlin’.” Jesse has taken his hat off and is fiddling with it between his hands, looking chastised. The girl blinks at him, and then nods, smiling slightly.

“Okay.”

* * *

The motel is small and old, the smell of dust and mothballs hanging in the air, but at least the bed linens are clean and there’s hot water.

There hadn’t been any clothes at the general store in town (Gabe had asked), so the girl is currently wearing one of his Blackwatch branded t-shirts and a pair of Jesse’s sweats. They swamp her thin frame, but at least they’re clean. It turns out that, when free of all the dirt and grime, her hair is a dark, coppery blonde instead of the dull brown Gabe had first thought. Not all of it is salvageable, the knots too matted to undo, and so she’s sitting on the floor in front of the tv while Jesse, seated on the bed behind her, trims her hair with a pocket knife.

She seems suspiciously unconcerned that a strange man is that close to her neck with a blade, but from what they’ve seen it’s unlikely they could do any lasting damage.

Still, Gabe throws Jesse a pointed look and jerks his head towards the girl. The cowboy rolls his eyes but nods back.

“Ya got a name, sweet pea?” He asks gently. The girl doesn’t immediately respond, but Gabe does notice her shoulders go tense under McCree’s hands. The cowboy, for his part, doesn’t slow in his work, every gesture measured and precise.

“I like Victoria.” The girl finally says.

Gabe frowns. That’s not how people usually give their name. Jesse must have the same thought.

“Ya like it?” He prods. The girl shrugs one shoulder.

“It’s what I would like to be called, yes.” She replies. Jesse frowns.

“But it ain’t y’r name?” He asks. The girl goes very still, shoulders curling as she hunches forward a little. Jesse, who has finished cutting her hair by this point, leans away from her to give her some space.

“I…they never gave me a name.” The girl says very softly. Jesse pauses and then moves to sit on the floor beside her.

“What d’ya mean, sweetheart?” He asks, and Gabe suddenly realizes that the cowboy is talking like he’s dealing with a skittish animal.

The girl’s head lifts, turning slightly, and Gabe stiffens in his seat. Because he’s spent a very long time learning how to read the slightest shift in a person’s body language and there is genuine, bone deep fear stamped clearly across her thin face. It’s settled around her thin shoulders like a shroud, making them curve in a tight arc, and he can almost see the weight of it pushing down on her spine, causing it to bend.

“I don’t want to go back.” Her eyes dart for the door and Gabe wonders, if she made a break for it, if they could stop her.

Or if they even should.

Jesse lifts his arm and the girl flinches, shying away from him and hunching over in that way she does, like she’s trying to make herself a smaller target.

Gabe doesn’t like that it’s a noticeable pattern.

Slowly, Jesse reaches back, lifting his hat from the bed before plopping it down onto the girl’s head. She blinks, clearly confused, and reaches up to touch the brim with tentative fingers. She turns to Jesse for an explanation.

“I know it’s hard, sweet pea, but I want ya to trust me when I tell ya this. Whatever it is that y’re running from, we’re not gonna let anything happen to ya.” The cowboy says, reaching out to tweak the brim with a small smile.

“I swear on m’hat.” He says solemnly.

There’s a very long moment where they’re silent, waiting with bated breath, and then slowly, very slowly, she starts to speak.

And what she tells them shocks them to their cores.

She tells them about how she was born in a military research lab, Theta 3, as part of a top secret government project. About how Operation War Dog was supposed to be the United State’s next generation of super soldiers, altered before birth to be unkillable and raised as living weapons. About how, of over a thousand embryos relegated for the project, hers was the only one to survive incubation. How they’d called her by her lot number, four-zero-two. About how she’d been looked after by scientists and instructors who didn’t see her as human, but as an experiment to be studied, picked apart and examined under a microscope. About being taught battle tactics and psychology and weapons handling and martial arts, but not any of the basics, like how to read. About how she’d taught herself with a stolen holo-pad, eagerly absorbing everything and anything she could get her hands on, from languages and classic novels to sitcoms and recipe books. About the numerous advantages and even more numerous disadvantages of having absolutely perfect recall. About how, around the time she turned five, the men in military uniforms had come and how, after their visit, her caretakers had started testing her “durability” more thoroughly. About how the guards, when they were bored, would come down to her cell and take potshots through the grate in the door, laughing whenever she flinched. About spending years in a windowless box with nothing to do but read on her stolen holo-pad. About how, a little less than a month ago, after months of secretly trying to figure out how to properly harness her superhuman strength, she’d finally broken free and made a run for it.

A very long, heavy silence descends over them after she trails off.

Gabe, unsure how to process everything he’s been told, stands abruptly from his chair.

“I’m going for food.” He says before quickly exiting the room.

McCree and the girl stare at the closed door for several long moments before she speaks up.

“Is he mad?” She asks quietly, concerned. Jesse snorts.

“Gabe’s always mad about sumthin’.” He explains. She looks unconvinced, but the cowboy offers her a warm smile.

“It ain’t you, darlin’.” He assures her. She shifts a little, but seems to take his word for it.

Another brief pause.

“So, Victoria, huh?” Jesse asks. The girl blinks at the abrupt topic change, then nods enthusiastically.

“I quite like the name. I first heard about it because there was a heroine with that name in a story I read.” She explains.

“And that’s what ya want to be called?” The cowboy asks her. She bites her lip and nods again.

“Yes. Please.”

And just like that, the matter is settled. They spend the next twenty minutes until Gabe returns watching a sitcom on tv, the relative quiet punctuated only by the occasional question from Victoria.

The old fashioned lock on the door turns just as the episode ends, Gabe stepping into the room with several brown paper bags that smell strongly of grease tucked under his arms.

He hands Jesse a bag before extending one to Victoria, who takes it eagerly.

“I wasn’t sure how much you needed to eat. Judging by what you told us you require more calories than most, so I got a bunch. Whatever you don't eat that one will.” He tells her, nodding to Jesse, who already has his mouth full. She nods and pulls one of the paper wrapped bundles from the bag. Unwrapping it she frowns, then glances at Jesse, who is taking another massive bite out of his own burger. Copying the cowboy, she shifts her grip and takes a bite.

She pauses mid chew, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Both men turn to look at her when she makes a low, pained groan in the back of her throat.

“Ya okay, ‘Toria?” Jesse asks, looking concerned.

“Uh huh.” She answers, stuffing the rest of the burger into her mouth in two bites. She wolfs down the rest of them in record speed, some so fast Gabe is slightly afraid she’s going to choke. After she’s polished off the last one she smiles contentedly and leans back against the bed with a sigh.

“That was wonderful.” She says dreamily. Jesse snorts.

“We’ll have to get ya some nicer food if ya think that’s quality grub.” He says teasingly. Victoria blinks, head tilting to see them over the edge of the bed.

“It just feels so nice.” She says, looking like she’s already halfway asleep.

“What does?” Gabe asks.

“Being full.” They both go still at her answer and Gabe nearly heaves a sigh.

He wonders just how many more times this kid is going to shock him with her words alone.

* * *

He’s breaking so many of his own rules with this.

Gabe is sitting by the window of the motel room, the blackout curtains drawn, going over messages and reports from HQ on his holo-pad. The tv flickers in the background, muted but providing an eerie blue glow over the room. His mind is whirring with plans and contingencies of how to get through this mission and then get Victoria back to the Swiss HQ.

Because the US Military may see her only as a multi-billion dollar experiment, but when it comes down to it she’s just a scared kid with nowhere to go.

And Gabriel Reyes has always had a soft spot where those are concerned.

He glances across the room, over Jesse’s snoring form to the second bed. Victoria is curled up in a tight ball under the covers, clutching a pillow to her chest, but Gabe knows that she’s not really asleep. She’s lying too still for that, breaths even but short. He wonders about it, but decides not to ask tonight. All of them have had a very eventful day and piling more on top of it doesn’t sound enticing in the slightest.

Instead, he sighs and brings up their mission file on his holo-pad, flipping through facility blueprints and personnel rosters until he finds the timetable he wants.

He still has a team to lead and a mission to finish.

What’s one more along for the ride?

* * *

Gabe should have known that the kid would suffer from some pretty intense nightmares. But it still shocks him the first time he’s woken up at 2 am to find Victoria clinging to his arm like a limpet, his shirt sleeve damp from her tears as she kicks and twists under the blanket, trying to escape some unseen assailant.

He’s frozen for a moment, not quite sure what’s happening, mind fuzzy with sleep and confusion, but then everything clicks into place and he quickly wraps his arms around her. He rubs at her back as he coaxes her from the nightmare with hushed reassurances, both Spanish and English falling unbidden from his mouth. He can tell the moment she wakes up fully because she starts to shiver violently, sniffling in the quiet of the motel room.

He doesn’t let up, however, rocking her gently until she relaxes and settles back down, her little gasps for air evening out as her breathing deepens. He feels her go boneless as she drops back off to sleep and lets out a long sigh of his own.

A soft chuff of laughter from the other bed makes him shoot a glare at Jesse, who is grinning sleepily at him.

“Y’re such a softy.” The cowboy says quietly. Gabe doesn’t respond, simply tries to go back to sleep. The next night, when it’s Jesse who gets woken up in a similar fashion, Gabe checks to make sure Victoria is okay before smiling smugly at the cowboy.

They acquire a pair of boots for her somewhere along the highway between Santa Fe and Albuquerque, but she basically ends up living in McCree and Gabe’s spare clothes, despite them being oversized. They also get her a hunting knife, which she keeps looped on a cord around her neck and which McCree starts teaching her how to throw.

About a week after they find her, Gabe is going over the weekly report he’s putting together to send back to HQ. They’re staking out and gathering intelligence on a suspected Talon base, but all of the coded transmissions coming from the small outcrop of buildings have defied every attempt to crack them. Even Athena is having difficulty, despite the massive database available to the AI.

He has one such message open on his holo-pad, staring at the letters as if that alone will decode the text.

“It’s a Vigenère.” Gabe startles, blinking as he turns to see Victoria’s eyes on the screen of his holo-pad.

“What?” He asks dumbly. She blinks and lifts her gaze to his, fidgeting a little in her spot on one of the beds.

“The code, it’s a Vigenère. I think the language is Tewa.” She explains.

Gabe can’t help but stare for a few more moments, mentally kicking himself for forgetting that, apart from being just a kid, Victoria is also a walking, talking military experiment.

It should make sense that she’d know obscure shit like this.

“Can you read this?” He asks, motioning to the message. Victoria nods and leans forward a little, looking excited.

“Yes.”

He hands her his holo-pad, a piece of paper, and a pencil, completely ignoring the fact that the pad is packed full of highly sensitive data, and watches in fascination as Victoria goes over the coded message carefully, reading and rereading it several times before starting to write.

Slowly, a legible letter takes shape, requesting a new shipment of supplies and weapons from a different base, to be delivered the following day.

“How did you do that?” Gabe asks, staring at the paper Victoria hands him, the message written out in her shaky handwriting. She bounces excitedly in her spot, smile wide and bright.

“Well, a Vigenère code is similar to a Caesar Shift Cypher, where you substitute out letters depending on which letter of the alphabet the code starts with. Except, with a Vigenère, there’s a code word that determines which code you use for which letter. This one, for example, is written in Tewa, which is a Kiowa-Tanoan language and spoken primarily by the Pueblo people here in New Mexico. The keyword for this code is Phéndi', which means Black. So, for this code, the first letter is decoded according to the cypher starting with P, then the next letter is decoded with the cypher for H, and so on until you get back to P. Then you have to translate it from Tewa into English.” She’s speaking in a rush by the end, barely taking a breath as she explains the process, and Gabe can’t help but mirror her enthusiasm.

“You’re really interested in this, aren’t you?” He asks her. She bites her lip and drops her gaze, looking a little guilty.

“I’ve always really liked puzzles.” She says shyly. Gabe grins at her.

“Want to do another one?” He asks.

* * *

They spend another month in New Mexico.

Gabe and Jesse find themselves spending almost all of their time at the motel where they’re staying, having already planted all of the surveillance equipment necessary to intercept all of the messages entering and exiting what is now very obviously an active Talon base. All of these messages get passed to Victoria, who gleefully decodes them. It takes only a few days for her to get fast enough to start teaching McCree and the two of them spend the afternoons camped out on the worn carpet in front of the tv, bouncing words back and forth as they decipher them.

It’s during one of these afternoon sessions that Jesse looks up from the paper he’s checking and turns to Victoria.

“How old are ya, anyway?” He asks, almost like the thought has just occurred to him. Victoria, for her part, doesn’t even look up from the holo-pad she’s pouring over.

“I don’t know the exact date, but I was born in the spring of 2044, so I’m 17. I think my birthday is in early April, maybe the 5th, but I’m not certain.” She answers dismissively.

Gabe, sitting by the window on watch, stills, before turning his head to observe her.

Almost a solid month of proper meals has fleshed her out at least a little. She’s still thin, but it’s not the sickly, rail thin she was when they found her. Gabe thinks she’ll be compact when she’s fully healthy, but still petite enough to lull her opponents into a false sense of security.

Because he’s still reminded that, even emaciated as she’d been, she’d knocked him clean on his ass during their first meeting.

Jesse looks surprised, but doesn’t comment any further, going back to work with a shrug.

Gabe, for his part, sighs.

17.

He wonders what she’ll be like when she’s McCree’s age.

Or, worse yet, his.

* * *

They’re about five minutes out from HQ when Gabe turn to them both.

“Stay on the ship for a few while I talk to Morrison.” He instructs. In the seat beside Victoria Jesse goes completely still, eyes cutting to his CO.

“You haven’t told him?” The cowboy sounds incredulous and just a little worried. Gabe’s expression closes off.

“That’s not important.” He says dismissively.

By the look on his face, Jesse seems to disagree.

Regardless, the cowboy stays behind on the ship with Victoria, both listening to the clunk of Gabe’s boots as he makes his way down the gangplank to the landing pad. There’s muffled voices, barely audible from inside the Orca. Minutes pass and the voices get louder, culminating in one of them rising into a shout.

“What do you mean, A MONTH?!”

Jesse glances at Victoria, but she doesn’t take her eyes off the open hatch, as the thunder of boots coming up the ramp reaches them, very nearly shaking the whole ship.

An angry blonde man with striking blue eyes appears in the doorway, framed by the sunlight and dressed in an impressive suit of blue leather, but it isn’t until he appears and she gets a good look at him that Jesse feels Victoria shrink into his side, shoulders curling just enough to make her look even smaller than she already is.

The blonde, Morrison, swings his head around to focus on them, eyes tracking over McCree before landing squarely on Victoria.

All the fight seems to go out of him like a deflating balloon, his shoulders dropping and his chin lowering as his face softens in an instant.

Truth be told, Jack was more angry at Gabriel for keeping the girl a secret than anything else, but to see her for real, small and skinny and pressing into McCree’s side like he's her only lifeline makes his heart ache. Slowly, he walks forward, plopping into a seat across from them.

“Gabe tells me he and Jesse picked you up in New Mexico.” He says, voice quiet.

Victoria nods once, eyes locked unblinkingly on Jack’s face.

“He also said you couldn’t remember how you got there, but that you were very helpful figuring out the cypher code.” He continues.

Victoria, for her part, takes her cue from Jesse, sitting beside her, who’s hand presses into her lower back, unseen by Morrison.

“That’s right.” She manages on a croak. Jack smiles, kind and warm, obviously interpreting her tension as nervousness.

“Well, we’d be happy to have you here, if you have nowhere to go.” He offers.

Victoria feels Jesse relax the smallest bit and follows his example, forcing her shoulders down in a conscious effort.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is entirely self indulgent. 
> 
> Sorry not sorry.


	2. Hawk Song

— 2065, Sweden, Overwatch HQ —

It is 3am and Genji can’t sleep.

Which is subsequently how he finds himself aimlessly wandering the halls, trying to wear out his new body at least a little. Given how he is more machine than man now (and that thought alone is enough to bring bile to his tongue), it is shaping up to be a very long night.

It isn’t until he notices light up ahead that he really tunes in to his surroundings and realizes that his feet have carried him to the training hall. Curious about who could be using the facilities at such an hour, he draws up to the window overlooking the hall.

On one of the mats below him stands a young woman. She is wearing a pair of leggings and a tank emblazoned with the Blackwatch crest, which he finds odd, considering she looks no older than 18. Her dark blonde hair is working it’s way free of the short ponytail it had been scraped into, sweaty tendrils sticking to her neck and forehead. She’s a little shorter than Oxton, but with a thicker build and wider shoulders.

Despite her small stature she is viciously laying into a punching bag, the leather indented from where she’d struck repeatedly with her fists. Her heart shaped face is twisted, teeth bared and eyebrows drawn down, her entire focus on the bag in front of her. It swings gently back and forth and Genji can almost imagine the sounds of squeaking chains and creaking leather, the thud of her fists impacting with each hit.

He watches her for a good fifteen minutes, entranced by the rage that dances across her face, the all consuming fire he can make out even from his vantage point. He is almost disappointed when she takes a step back, plucking up a bottle of water from a nearby bench for a drink, wiping at her face with a towel before beginning to undo her hand wraps.

Genji waits until she’s gone and the lights have dimmed before slipping down into the hall, feet silent on the freshly cleaned mats as he approaches the bag she’d been working on.

He is surprised to realize that it’s a heavily reinforced model, classed for someone like an SEP or the Crusader, way above the girl’s apparent weight group.

Intrigued, Genji wonders who the girl is and when he’ll next run in to her.

* * *

The answer is four days later, and then she’s standing next to McCree behind Commander Reyes in a conference room at Blackwatch HQ, the barest smile curling the edges of her lips.

Her hair is down this time, brushing around her shoulders, and she’s dressed casually in jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, arms crossed as she watches their commanding officer go through Genji’s orientation. Her eyes, which he hadn’t been able to make out before, are bright green, intense in a way he’s unfamiliar with. He can’t help but keep glancing at her every so often, but he’s sure to pay close attention to what’s being said because Gabriel Reyes is not a man he wants to cross.

“You already know Jesse.” Gabriel finally says, waving at the cowboy, who tips his hat in greeting, before pointing to the girl.

“This is Victoria Reyes, Blackwatch’s resident cryptographer. Victoria, Genji Shimada.”

The blonde inclines her head to him, smile pulling a little wider.

“A pleasure.” She says, but Genji’s brain is stuck two sentences back.

“Reyes?” He parrots, surprised as he glances between them, looking for any kind of familial resemblance that he might have missed. McCree rolls his eyes with a smirk and Victoria laughs as Gabriel sits up a little straighter, apparently indignant.

“Adopted.” She says with a little wave. “He just loves saying it out loud.”

“Don’t be mean to your _papi,_ niña.” Reyes says, expression set in a scowl but tone teasing.

Victoria leans over Gabriel’s chair with another laugh, giving him a one armed hug and a peck on the cheek.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Gabe.” She says with a grin. Straightening, she turns her attention back to Genji, smile still in place.

“Do you want to get settled in first, or do you want the tour?” She asks. Genji, who is still processing everything that’s happened, blinks.

“Tour first, please.” He manages. Victoria dimples at him before walking around the table towards the door.

“Right this way, then.” She says with a wave of her hand.

She’s almost to the door, however, when she draws up short, spinning on her heal.

“I almost forgot. Jesse?” Her grin is bright, wide and mischievous.

The cowboy frowns, tapping at his chin as he turns his full attention to regard Genji.

“18.” He finally says. Victoria’s eyes flick to Gabriel, who is still scowling in his seat.

“20.” Their commanding officer grunts. Now beyond confused, Genji turns to Victoria.

“What’s going on?” He asks. Her grin tugs even wider.

“We like to play a little game with new recruits called ‘Guess Victoria’s Age.’ So far, no one has been right.” She plants her hands on her hips and tilts her head expectantly.

“Well?”

Genji blinks again, gaze flicking across her face, before shrugging one shoulder.

“I thought you were around 18 when I first saw you, but now I’m not so sure.” He admits.

From behind the table Jesse crows in triumph and Gabriel groans. Victoria giggles.

“I’m actually 21.” She says, stepping back towards the door. Genji, who had been making to follow her, stops short.

“No.” He says flatly, causing McCree’s laughter to increase.

“Yes.” She says, exiting the conference room. The ninja trails after her.

“It’s not possible.”

“Argue all you want, it won’t make you right.”

They continue to bicker lightly back and forth as Victoria leads him through the building, showing him through the cafeteria, the training halls, the shooting range, the lounges and the officers only areas that he’ll have access to, the R&D department, the science wing, as well as the medical facility. Finally, she leads him to the dorms, stopping outside a nondescript grey metal door with 7A printed over it.

“This is your room.” She explains, handing him a keycard.

“The chip in your arm will be activated later and Athena can let you into most areas, but I like to keep a physical key on me, regardless.” She says.

“Why is that?” Genji asks, wondering if something might be wrong with the security system. Victoria blinks at him, before shrugging.

“I like to be prepared.” She says by way of explanation. She points down the hallway.

“Gabe, Jesse, and I are all down at the end of this wing. Gabe is in 2A on the left, Jesse is in 4A on the right and I’m in 5A next to him. If you have any questions, you can ask either Athena or any of us.” She turns to point in the other direction.

“There’s a private kitchen on this level, too. Unlike the cafeteria, it never closes. If you want anything in particular, let Athena know and she can send a request through procurement.” She stuffs her hands in her pockets and rocks back on her heels, observing Genji for a moment.

“If you ever need anything…” She rolls her shoulders, letting the statement hang between them, an open invitation. Genji nods in understanding, knowing full well he will never take her up on the offer.

“Thank you.” He says stiffly, offering her a small, formal bow. Her smile is lopsided, something almost like sadness flitting across her face before she turns and walks away, leaving him outside the door of his room.

* * *

It doesn’t take as long as he would have liked.

The fact that he would have liked for it to never happen is irrelevant.

“Genji?”

He can’t breathe properly and he’s raging internally at his own weakness. He never expected that he would fall apart here, in a public corridor, but now that he’s here, chest constricting under the weight of his new frame, the recent circumstances of his life all suddenly too much to bear, he’s struggling to hold on to the simmering anger that has been his constant companion since he woke up to Angela’s face leaning over him.

It’s not working and he slides to his knees, nerveless fingers clutching at his hair as he struggles to draw a full lungful of air.

“Hey, I’m gonna touch you, okay?” The voice feels like it’s very far away, faint and tinny, but the warning means he doesn’t lash out when warm hands slide across his skin, arms bracing across his chest and around his shoulders as he’s heaved up onto his feet. Whoever it is half carries, half drags him out of the corridor, the whoosh of a door opening and closing almost entirely drowned out by the roaring in his ears.

“Okay, just a little farther. We’re almost there.” The voice continues, and Genji has no idea who it is or where they’re going, but suddenly the harsh lights of the hallway dim to almost nothing. He’s helped to the floor, the scratch of carpet against his flesh arm almost agonizing, the hands smoothing down his back once before lifting away.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” The voice wavers, fading in and out like a broken radio. A few dizzying moments pass where Genji feels adrift, unanchored and heaving in the void, but then there’s a heavy weight draping over him, pressing on his real skin and prosthetic alike, and something soft is placed under his cheek.

“Okay, just a little more. I’m gonna touch you again, okay?” The voice is back, as well as the hands, as he’s shifted so the person can settle beside him, and then the world is plunged into complete darkness.

It’s warm and dark and whoever it is is running their hands down his back over and over as they keep talking, gently, quietly, about mundane things that have happened around base. About what was served in the cafeteria that day, about the latest gossip from the accounting department, about anything and everything.

Slowly, Genji finds it easier to breathe, the heavy weight settling around him more comfortably and the person’s touch becoming more tangible, less like it’s happening to someone else in a fever dream. Finally, he blinks blearily, surprised to find that he’d closed his eyes at some point. He recognizes the voice now as belonging to Victoria and, even in the dark, he can make out a few handing shirts above them that tells him they’re in someone’s closet.

“Victoria?” His voice cracks, his throat sandpaper dry, but he almost whines when her hands stop petting him. She picks up again almost instantly, one of her hands having made it’s way into his hair.

“Are you back with me?” She asks, voice still soft, quiet. He answers with a groan.

“Where are we?” He asks instead, though he already figures he has a good idea.

“My closet. I hide in here when Gabe and Jesse aren’t on base and the nightmares get really bad.” She offers. Genji decides to store that bit of information away to unpack at a later date and shifts a little, testing the waters.

He’s laid out on his side, his head supported by a pillow. Victoria is lying beside him so that they are chest to chest, his head tucked under her chin. There’s something very heavy draped over him and he plucks at it, fingers still tingling with numbness.

“It’s my weighted blanket.” Victoria explains when she notices what he’s doing. “It helps me sleep, makes me feel safer.”

He blinks, eyes finally having adjusted, and he pulls back to glance up towards where her face should be. All he can see is the general outline of her shape, but he reaches up with his flesh hand, all the same. She meets him halfway, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently.

They stay like that for a long time, Genji matching his breathing to Victoria’s in the dark, quiet space of her closet. She keeps running the fingers of her free hand through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp every now and then.

Even through his face plate Genji can smell warm earth and cinnamon, plus the faintest hints of mint and gun oil that make him think of Reyes and McCree. Pressed as close as he is, he can both feel and hear the steady thump of Victoria’s heart in her chest, nearly as soothing as the weight laid over him. Almost against his will, Genji finds himself drifting.

He must fall fully asleep at some point because he’s woken by the closet door sliding open a few inches, faint light streaming through, and muffled voices.

“He okay?” He recognizes Reyes’ voice, though it’s lowered in an obvious attempt not to disturb him.

“No.” Victoria answers honestly, her voice vibrating through Genji’s chest from where they’re pressed together.

“But I think he will be. Eventually. He needs time.”

Reyes grunts.

“He needs to wake up soon.” He says.

“Why?” Victoria asks, sharply, and Genji feels her arms tighten around him in the briefest squeeze.

“Mission briefing. Don’t look at me like that, niña.” Reyes responds.

“Push it back.” She says.

“Victoria…”

“Push it back, Gabe.”

Reyes heaves a heavy sigh.

“You can’t coddle him.” He says.

“I can, too.”

“He’s older than you.”

“So? Everyone needs a little coddling every now and then, regardless of age, and he’s hurting.” She says.

A long, heavy silence, and then Reyes sighs again.

“I’ll push the meeting back to tomorrow morning.” He concedes.

“Thanks, Gabe.”

“Don’t thank me. I can’t have him collapsing from exhaustion so soon.” He says on a grumble.

The closet door shuts soundlessly, plunging them into darkness once more, and Genji listens to the sound of Reyes walking across Victoria’s room and the doors swishing open and closed behind him.

“Go back to sleep, Genji.” He shouldn’t be surprised at this point, but he’s warm and relaxed enough not to jump when Victoria addresses him, even if it does take him by surprise.

“Where do you get off talking to someone like Reyes in such a manner?” He asks softly. Victoria snorts from somewhere above him.

“Long story. I’ll tell you another time. Go back to sleep.” She says.

When she starts petting his hair again Genji can’t think of a single reason to argue.

For the first time in months he finds his sleep unplagued by nightmares.

* * *

Victoria is almost to her quarters when she turns a corner and nearly runs into something soft and squishy. She stops and takes a hasty step back to prevent herself from running into the person holding the object, blinking when she realizes that it’s a stuffed Pachimari. There’s a green silk ribbon tied in a bow around it and she follows the arms holding it up to find Genji standing in front of her, the toy thrust out at an almost 90 degree angle.

“Genji?” She asks, tentative, because she’t not entirely sure what’s happening. He heaves a heavy sigh and pushes the plush at her, insistent.

“It’s for you.” He offers. She blinks, but reaches up to take the stuffed toy. It’s fuzzy and soft and she smiles as she turns it over to get a good look at its expression.

“It’s cute. Thank you.” She says, holding the toy against her chest as she turns her smile on Genji. He deflates with a sigh, the tension draining from him in a moment.

“I’m glad you like it. I wanted to get you something as a thank you for…helping me.” He says, tripping over the words. Victoria’s head tilts in confusion before she seems to catch on.

“Genji, there’s no need to thank me for that.” She says softly. Genji rubs at the back of his head, embarrassed, but doesn’t say anything else. Victoria can’t help but smile.

“Though, if you ever need my help again, my door is always open.” She says. Genji smiles and, just like that, the tension is broken.

“If…if you are not opposed.” He says. She grins wider.

“Not at all.”

* * *

It is frighteningly easy, Genji thinks, to fit in here. When he’s in the medical wing with Angela or on the shooting range with McCree or hanging out in the lounge with Victoria it is easy, maybe too much so, to forget (what has happened, what he has become, what he sees when he closes his eyes to sleep at night). For those brief moments, he is no longer a former member of the Shimada syndicate.

He almost feels like his old self again.

But then he catches a glimpse of matte black and red from his peripheral and is viscerally reminded of what he has lost.

If he tries to spend as much time as possible around his new teammates, instead of alone with his nightmares, then that’s his business.

He becomes a frequent visitor to Victoria’s rooms, both when she’s in residence and out on assignment.

However, despite her having a very intimate knowledge about his, it takes over seven months for Genji to witness one of her nightmares.

He’s just returned from a solo mission, exhausted and weary, when he receives a text from McCree, who is in Spain with Reyes.

‘Check in on ‘Toria.’ Is all it says and Genji frowns, but changes course mid-step.

Despite the early morning hour he doesn’t bother knocking on Victoria’s door, simply waves his arm across the panel and steps through when the doors swish open. The bed is empty, sheets rumpled, and the weighted blanket is conspicuously missing, so he heads for the closet, but pauses after only a few steps.

He can hear shaky, ragged breathing and broken sobs from behind the closet door, accompanied by soft whimpering that makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

Slowly, he cracks open the door, looking down to find Victoria curled in a tight little ball under the weighted blanket, the Pachimari plush he’d given her clutched to her chest as she rocks back and forth, shivering.

She looks so small, he thinks, even as he falls to his knees to gather her up in his arms, tucking her head under his chin as he settles her in his lap, hands gentle as they run up and down her back.

It’s not nearly as odd as he’d thought it would be, with their roles reversed. He speaks quietly about mundane things, like a stray cat he saw on his last mission or about Torbjorn’s latest pet project, hoping hearing his voice will bring her some comfort even in sleep.

With a shaky breath Victoria jerks awake in his arms and he watches as she blinks dazedly into the dimly lit space. One of her hands lifts to touch his cheek, fingers brushing against the plate fixed to his jaw and he can tell the moment his identity registers because her head snaps around fast enough to make his neck twinge in sympathy.

“Genji!” The relief in her voice surprises him, but not nearly as much as when she wrestles her way free of her blanket prison to fling her arms around his neck.

“You’re okay. You came back.” He can feel dampness at his collar, but doesn’t comment on it, simply tightens his grip.

“Of course. I am a professional.” He says, trying for humor. It works and Victoria giggles weakly against his neck.

“I’m glad.” Genji feels his heart swell at her whispered words, tears brimming in his own eyes.

As he settles back against the closet wall, Victoria still cradled in his lap, Genji wonders if this, having someone who he would do anything to protect, is what having a younger sibling feels like.

* * *

He finds out by accident.

It’s a routine mission, all of them dispatched to take down a Talon cell trying to set up roots in London. Moira hasn’t joined them this time, having been invited to the US to speak at a conference, so Victoria is filling in for her.

Reyes, McCree, and himself are on recon while Victoria stays behind to monitor their progress and provide support, staked out in the empty apartment they’ve commandeered for the mission.

They’re spread out, slowly coming up on the target building when a crackle over the comms cuts through the early morning quiet, their only warning that things are about to go south.

“Abort mission. I repeat, abort mission.” Victoria’s voice is sharp, curt, all business. Genji can hear both Jesse and Gabe immediately start moving, abandoning their posts as they fall back and he is quick to follow suit.

“What is it?” Reyes snaps over the line. Another crackle.

“We’ve been made. Talon was informed of the mission beforehand.” Genji can feel the tension over the comms even as an icy feeling creeps down his spine that has nothing to do with the chill of the London air.

“We have a mole.” Victoria says, confirming what the other three have already figured out.

“Keep the comm lines open.” Reyes snaps. All three men pick up the pace.

Genji is a block away from the apartment complex they’re using as a base when he hears Victoria swear violently under her breath and then an almighty bang, followed by a crash and the crack of gunfire. Then, as suddenly as it started, the noises are cut off as the comm line goes dead.

“Victoria!” Genji has never heard either Reyes or McCree sound so frightened, and he feels an answering terror grip him as he pushes himself to run faster.

His little sister is in danger, and he’ll be damned if he lets her get hurt.

He’s a few seconds behind Reyes and McCree, so when he drops down into the stairwell it’s to see them picking off the last of the Talon agents who had hit the apartment. There are more littered around the shattered door, which Genji dashes for without a single thought for his own safety.

Inside, the place is a mess, equipment scattered across the floor and furniture overturned. But Victoria is standing in the center of the room, unharmed, calmly holding a handgun and toeing at a downed Talon agent with her boot. She turns when he enters, one corner of her mouth tugging up in a lopsided smile.

“All clear?” She asks him.

Genji opens his mouth to reply, to answer that Jesse and Gabe are cleaning up in the stairwell, when he sees Victoria’s eyes widen, the color draining from her face.

The next thing he knows she’s thrown herself forward, knocking into him with enough force to send him stumbling back under her weight. A gunshot cracks off from somewhere behind him, followed by another somewhere close by his head, making his ears ring something awful as he hits the ground, rolling over to shield Victoria’s body with his own.

When he looks back it is to see a Talon agent slumped over, gun pointed towards them. If not for Victoria’s interference, Genji realizes he would have been shot clear through the back. He turns to thank her, but finds the words dying on his tongue.

Victoria wheezes around the gaping bullet wound in her throat, red painted across her lips, the jagged edges of torn flesh raw and weeping and Genji feels panic clawing at his chest.

“Reyes! REYES!” He doesn’t realize he’s screaming, panic stricken, until Gabriel appears in the doorway, eyes widening at the scene before him.

Genji’s fingers are numb as he cradles Victoria close, chest constricting as ice settles like serpents in his blood. He’s vaguely aware of Reyes and McCree talking above him, trying to get him to let go, but their voices sound very far away.

“Jesse.” Gabriel’s voice cuts through the fog and Genji flinches as hands descend on him, only actively starting to struggle when the cowboy drags him away from Victoria so Gabe can take her from him, cradling her with one arm. Her lips are moving but no sound comes out. Instead red bubbles up from her mouth, dribbling from the corners of her lips to run down towards her neck and Genji can’t hold back his sob at the sight.

Her head turns marginally at the sound, bleary eyes finding his as she reaches for him. He starts fighting McCree in earnest until he gets his flesh hand free, stretched out enough to twine with hers. Through the thunder of his heartbeat a whisper reaches him.

“I’m okay. Genji, I’m gonna be okay.” He blinks, tears blurring his vision, because it sounds like her voice is getting stronger, but that can’t be right.

He blinks furiously to clear his vision and focuses.

The wound in her neck is still red and raw, but it’s…moving. He goes still with shock as he watches the edges pull towards each other, flesh knitting together before his eyes. The skin is the last bit to heal over, starting shiny white and then pinkening before darkening to match the surrounding flesh.

Victoria swallows painfully and Genji can feel her trembling through the too tight grip he still has on her hand. He blinks, expecting some trick of the light, but the wound is gone as if it had never happened. The blood is still there, red and viscous and stark against her skin, but the wound is gone.

He swallows.

“Ex-explain.” He demands, voice soft, throaty, raw.

Victoria’s eyes are heavy lidded, but she nods.

“We…we need to get out of here and I…need to eat. Then, I promise, I’ll tell you everything.” She says, squeezing his fingers with her own. Genji feels himself nodding along without being fully conscious of it, still numb with shock and adrenaline.

Reyes helps Victoria to her feet and they get moving.

Not once does she relinquish her hold on Genji’s hand, even when they drop by a fast food chain on their way out of town to grab burgers. She scarfs them down one handed, the color returning to her face as she does so.

True to her word, once they’re safe, Victoria tells him everything.

* * *

Genji likes to think he’s an observant person.

But, after Victoria tells him her story, complete with every gory detail he’s never wanted to know, he finds himself kicking himself over all the little things he’d missed.

In all honesty he’d almost forgotten the tidbit with the punching bag, back before he even knew her name. It makes sense, now, that she would train when others aren’t likely to stumble across her. The very fact that she can bench press a car with little effort would no doubt raise some questions with the higher ups in Overwatch.

He’d never considered what it means that she often times knows when someone is coming long before they come into view. How she has an uncanny ability to pinpoint people by the sounds of just their footsteps. How her nose always wrinkles when someone wearing strong perfume or cologne walks by, how he’d ignored her offhanded comments when Jesse had changed shampoo brands a few months before.

He’d never paid mind to how she’s never sick and never visits the medbay. How Angela has never seen her for so much as a scraped knee or a sniffle. How she is polite and courteous to Moira but doesn’t spend any more time than absolutely necessary with the woman. How she offers that same distant respect to people like Morrison and Amari, but is always quick to vanish when anyone of importance comes visiting the base.

She’s a ghost, Genji realizes, more so than even him. Haunted, just like he is, by her upbringing and her circumstances.

He has a brief moment, that first night back at base as they’re disembarking from the Orca, when the reality of it all crashes down on him. How Blackwatch is harboring a multi-billion dollar secret military asset, conceived, born, and raised for the single purpose of war, who is actively being hunted by the US government.

But then he hears Victoria laugh at something Jesse has said and snaps out of it.

Gabriel Reyes is an enhanced super soldier doing black ops wet work under the guise of a worldwide military watch group.

Jesse McCree is a former outlaw and gang founder with a sixty-million dollar bounty on his head and enough skeletons in his closet to last anyone a lifetime.

And then there’s Genji, himself, a former yakuza assassin and playboy with a kill list several miles long.

None of them are without flaw, but at least Victoria’s are not self inflicted.

Genji is also becoming aware of a painful truth. The fall of the Shimada clan was a long time in coming, even before his father’s death. His choices leading up to that fateful encounter with his brother hadn’t done him any favors.

He only hopes that, moving forward, he can begin to make better choices.

For himself and for his new family.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic now has a playlist!
> 
> [Dogs of War](https://8tracks.com/indecisive_penguin/dogs-of-war?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) from [indecisive_penguin](http://8tracks.com/indecisive_penguin?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) on [8tracks Radio](https://8tracks.com?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button).


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